I am in Switzerland for a couple of days mountain air which coincides with the deer shooting season, so Edith tells me, anyway. Edith is the patron of Chez Edith, a charming chalet style restaurant in Nendaz.
Our last day in Haute-Nendaz involved a lot of walking. After a lot of walking, refreshment is essential. On the way back to Le Déserteur hotel, I wanted to put in a lost property report at the Police Municipale. Richard had lost a camera and, whilst he didn’t care too much for the money, he was sweating lead bullets over the contents of the digital flash card. For a man who has recently given up biathlons, still goes bull fighting barefoot, and is rumoured to be The Stig you will understand that he doesn’t sweat – ever.
I’ve got a question for you. Should one review an establishment when invited there to a party? When one’s hosts settled the bill? When the resto had to cope with 36 covers contemporaneously?
The answer is that it’s perfectly acceptable, as long as you have more cheek than a side of pork.
And so, we find ourselves in the 4 Vallées resort of Haute-Nendaz on the occasion of Alan’s 50th birthday party, where the great and the good (and for all I know, the not so great, and the not so good) assembled. You see, Alan’s friends fall into a number of categories: business; rugby; golf; parenting; Cobham neighbours; bob sleighing; paragliding; shark bating; interplanetary exploration; and the most fearsome Scottish walkers. For the record, I fall into the first category, and aspire to be fit enough one day to be measured alongside the latter group.
Stumble It!